


The Hobbit: An Unexpected Addition

by MultifandomForte



Series: Elvish Tales [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rewrite, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultifandomForte/pseuds/MultifandomForte
Summary: Lucia Maria Baggins is the outcast of the Shire, being the only elf to ever live there. Her adoptive father, Bilbo Baggins, doesn't exactly help with her assimilation into hobbit life. She longs for an escape from the simplicity and tediousness. When a wizard comes up to their door and offers an adventure, however, both her world and Bilbo's gets flipped upside down in the blink of an eye.
Relationships: Bain of Dale/Original Female Character(s), Bilbo Baggins & Original Female Character(s), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf/Tauriel, Thorin Oakenshield & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Elvish Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139114
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Unexpected Company

**Author's Note:**

> This was the very first story I ever wrote. I wrote it in fifth grade and now I've decided to rewrite it, seven years later. I hope you like it! I own nothing except for Lucia, my original character. Please don't use my OCs without asking, thank you. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, if you want. I love reading comments about what my readers think! Just please, keep it nice :)

It was a mostly normal day in the Shire. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, nothing new at all, as usual. Everything stayed the same here, except for me. I was the only thing and person out of place. Me, Lucia Maria Baggins of Bag End. Me, the only elf out of a village of hobbits. Interesting, isn’t it?

I was lucky enough to at least have a roof over my head, even though it was controlled nonstop by none other than Bilbo Baggins. He wasn’t my father, and he mostly made it clear that I wasn’t his child. I was more of a….housemate, with his last name.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Bilbo was the closest thing to family that I had, and he did treat me well. He simply limited me to the life of a hobbit, the same routine every day. As boring as it could be, I did manage to find joy within it. I kept myself happy, when possible, and I was used to it as it was.

As I stated before, it was a normal day in the Shire. A Tuesday, I believe. A beautiful Tuesday morning. I was sitting at the desk in my room, writing some irrelevant things down, when I heard some voices from outside. I stood up and walked over to my window. Bilbo was outside, that much I knew. He had walked out with his pipe a few minutes prior. I looked out the window, but wasn’t able to see anything useful. I walked quickly out of my room, making sure not to run. Bilbo would kill me if he found out that I was running in the house. My red dress almost got caught on a rough spot on my door, but it luckily didn’t. I adjusted the back corset vest around me, since I knew it would be crooked from the way I was sitting. I started to speak loudly, right as I put my hand on the doorknob of our circle-shaped, green front door.

“Bilbo, who are you talking to?” I asked, opening the door. I cut myself off when I saw I tall man with a staff, dressed all in grey. He was an older human, towering far above Bilbo. He was probably around six feet tall, with Bilbo reaching almost four feet. I, myself, was taller than Bilbo already and this was something we knew would happen anyway, but I was still treated as something I technically wasn’t; a child.

“Hello, Lucia,” the elder greeted.

“How do you know my name?” I questioned, looking between him and Bilbo.

“I know your name, as you should know mine.”

“He’s Gandalf the Grey, Lucia. He used to make Old Took’s fireworks that were displayed every Midsummer’s Eve,” Bilbo explained.

“Oh, I remember. They were always so pretty to watch.” I stepped forward and extended my hand to Gandalf, as an offering of a proper introduction and greeting. Gandalf and I shook hands, and he returned my smile.

“I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure,” he said. His words immediately perked my interest.

“An adventure?” I repeated, feeling a smile form on my face.

“Lucia, go inside,” Bilbo nearly cut me off.

“Why? I want to hear about this.”

“Because I am the adult and you are the child. When I tell you to do something, please do not question me.” I narrowed my eyes a little bit, but didn’t say anything, as I entered the hobbit-hole again. It wasn’t a dirty or small place, as one may think of when they hear the word ‘hole’. No, a hobbit hole is extremely tidy and pristine, remaining as clean as possible, furnished with all the things one may consider to have at home. Our hobbit-hole on the highest hill was the biggest in the Shire, with a large tree continuing to spread and blossom above it. I stayed near the window, attempting to listen in on any part of the occurring conversation that I could hear. Unfortunately, I wasn’t granted any luck. Bilbo entered the house, quickly moving towards the window where I was standing.

“What did he offer?” I asked, stepping back from the window a slight bit. Bilbo and I both watched Gandalf take his staff and mark something on our door. Neither of us could see what it was. Once Gandalf started to walk away, back towards the path leading away from the house, Bilbo moved away from the window. He started to walk away completely, heading down the hall. “Bilbo? What did he offer?” I called, moving in the direction he walked away from.

“Forget it, Lucia!” he called back. I stood there, unsure of how to respond. I paused for a few seconds, but then headed back to my room, making sure to slam my door.

That evening approached quickly and Bilbo started my daily lesson about how to cook food.

“Don’t keep it on its side for too long. Fish burns very quickly,” he told me. I flipped the fish over in the pan. The doorbell rang a few seconds later. “You get it, I’ll finish this.” On my way to the door, I grabbed an old shawl, feeling cold, and wrapped it around my shoulders, making sure to tie it as well. I opened my door and was slightly started. A dwarf was standing in front of me. He looked war-torn and seemed to also be carrying a shield.

“Dwalin, at your service,” he greeted with a bow.

“Lucia Baggins, at yours,” I replied unsurely. Dwalin’s gaze drifted to my pointed ear, which immediately made me very uncomfortable.

“Where is it, lassie?” he asked me.

“Where is….what?” I answered, watching as he took his shield from his back. He moved to somewhat hand it to me, so I took the initiative to take it from him. “Careful, easy now.” Although the shield weighed probably more than half my own weight, I managed to gently set it down off to the side. Dwalin stepped inside.

“Lucia, who’s at the door?” Bilbo asked, walking into the room. He and I shared the same expression.

“Bilbo, this is, um, Dwalin,” I told him, taking my shawl off and throwing it over a chair. I didn’t feel that cold anymore.

“Is it this way, laddie?” the dwarf asked.

“Is what….?” Bilbo started to question, just as I had.

“Supper.” Dwalin walked into our dining room, leaving Bilbo and I to stare at each other.

“Why would you let him in?” he whispered to me.

“I didn’t, he let himself in,” I defended myself, following him into the dining room.

We watched from a minimal distance as Dwalin consumed the fish dish that we had been preparing. The room was dead silent and it was an extremely uncomfortable silence.

“Very good, this,” Dwalin broke the silence, having cleaned the plate. “Any more?” Bilbo and I both jumped up.

“Oh, um, of course,” the hobbit answered, nodding to me. I grabbed a plate of scones, but slipped two of them into Bilbo’s pockets, as I passed him and set the plate down on the table. Just as I did, the doorbell rang. Bilbo moved to go get it, but I moved faster and ahead of him.

“I’ve got it,” I told him, dreading what I was going to find when I opened that door. Bracing myself for almost anything, I opened the door to see another dwarf. This one looked much less war-torn, and had long white hair and a beard of the same color. He smiled at me warmly, which differed from Dwalin.

“Balin, at your service,” he greeted, with another bow. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling a little.

“Lucia Baggins, at yours. Good evening.”

“Yes, yes it is. Although, I think it might rain later.” Balin stepped inside before I could say anything else. “Am I late?”

“Late for what?” I asked, already feeling like I knew the answer. His eyes drifted and landed on Dwalin.

“Evening, brother!” he called, walking over. Bilbo turned the corner, seeing the new visitor. He gave me a look that signaled all of his emotions at once. I shrugged defensively, motioning with my hands that it wasn’t my fault.

“By my beard! You’re wider and shorter!” Dwalin replied.

“Wider, not shorter.” The two headbutted, catching Bilbo and I off guard.

“I hate to interrupt, but I’m not sure if you have the right house,” Bilbo started to argue. It was pointless. The two dwarfs started to raid our pantry, much to our dismay. They were starting to carry on a conversation about cheese or something, while Bilbo still continued to try to argue. “It’s not that I don’t like visitors, I like visitors as much as the next, but I would like to know them before they come visiting. The thing is, we don’t know either of you. I don’t mean to be blunt, but I, uh….I have to speak my mind, I’m sorry.” Balin and Dwalin both turned to look at Bilbo.

“Apology accepted,” Balin responded. I just about died inside. As I was internally dying, the doorbell rang once again. I was already at the door by the time Bilbo had processed that it even rang. I opened the door to reveal two more dwarves, both heavily armed. They had to be brothers, it was nearly obvious.

“Kili,” the darker-haired one spoke first.

“And Fili,” the light-haired one continued.

“At your service,” they concluded in unison with a bow.

“You must be Miss Baggins,” Kili said with a smile.

“Please, call me Lucia, but I really think you have the wrong house,” I started to say, placing a hand on the door.

“Has it been canceled?”

“No one told us!”

“No, nothing’s been canceled….” I instantly regretted what I had said, knowing I made a mistake.

“That’s a relief.” The brothers let themselves in and I had no way of stopping them.

“Careful with these,” Fili said, handing me a wrapped bundle of swords. I nearly dropped them, but he waited until I had a firm enough grip. “They were just sharpened.” I nodded and placed them on the ground as gently as possible.

“Nice place, this is,” Kili commented, placing a booted foot on a wooden box. “Did you do it yourself?” The boot on the box sent sheer panic through my body. Bilbo was going to kill me.

“No, it’s been in Bilbo’s family for years, but please don’t do that! That’s his mother’s glory box, please don’t touch it!” Dwalin entered the room, right as I was in mid-plea.

“Fili, Kili, come give us a hand,” he ordered. The brothers immediately followed him to the kitchen. I sat down on the nearest stool, rubbing my forward. I had no idea what was going on. I could also hear Bilbo yelling from the dining room. The doorbell rang again, and I was about ready to lock it and not let anyone else in.

“No, no! There’s nobody home! Go away and bother someone else! There’s far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is!” Bilbo yelled as loud as he could, storming towards the door. I instantly stood up, afraid that his frustration would be quickly turned on me. “If this is some blockhead’s idea of a joke, I can only say that it is in  _ very  _ poor taste!” Bilbo grabbed onto the doorknob and swung the door open. A bunch of dwarves fell through and directly onto the floor. I counted eight, but in the moment, I wasn’t sure. Gandalf poked his head in through the door a few seconds later. He had a small smile, but no one else did. I walked past all of them, bracing myself for a night of complete and utter hell.

Listening to Bilbo’s yells and arguments was more trouble than trying to keep twelve rowdy dwarves from tearing our house apart.

“Excuse me! Wait, not that! Put that back, please!” the hobbit’s voice was heard above everyone else. I sighed, trying my best to tune it out. The dwarves, at least, did have enough manners to say please and thank you to me. Some seemed hesitant, mostly because they had glanced at my ears. I didn’t blame them. As far as I knew, dwarves and elves had never gotten along. However, that was as far as  _ I  _ knew. I could hear Gandalf counting off each dwarf’s name.

“Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bomber, Dori, Nori and….ah, Ori! We seem to be one dwarf short.”

“He’s late, is all,” Dwalin reassured the wizard. “He traveled north for a meeting with our kin.” I gave Dwalin another mug of ale, mostly so I could hear the conversation going on. “Thank you, lassie.” Most of the dwarves had moved into what they now made our ‘new’ dining room.

“Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!” Bilbo complained to himself.

“My dear Bilbo, what in Middle Earth is the matter?” Gandalf questioned.

“What’s the matter? I am surrounded by dwarves!  Look at the state of my kitchen! There’s mud trod in the carpet, they’ve pillaged the pantry! I’m not even going tell you what they’ve done in the bathroom, they’ve all but destroyed the plumbing! I don’t understand what they’re doing in my house!”

“I feel like a wench in a tavern,” I added to the conversation, placing one hand on my hip and the other held two mugs of ale.

“And  _ you  _ won’t be using that language in  _ my  _ house, young lady,” Bilbo snapped at me.

“Oh, so now I’m a ‘young lady’ instead of a child? Perfect timing for me to suddenly grow up in your eyes, isn’t it? Besides, it doesn’t seem to be  _ our  _ house anymore.” I walked away, already tired from how long the evening had carried on. I walked over to the table, where all the dwarves had seated themselves. I placed the two mugs on the table, sliding them towards their recipients. In return, I received four mugs in return, which I took over to rinse them out. Kili, Fili and Bofur were already at the wash station, cleaning some of the mugs and cutlery already. “Thank you for starting them,” I said, moving in between them to start helping.

“I have a question for you, Miss Baggins,” Bofur asked.

“Please, call me Lucia. Ask away.”

“Why are you the only elf in a village of hobbits?” I paused, internally questioning whether or not I should tell the truth or remain vague.

“I was left here, fourteen years ago,” I replied, keeping my eyes focused on the rinsing out the mugs in my hands. “Right out there, at the front door. Bilbo had nowhere to send me so he kept me here.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So you’ve never been with your own kind?” Kili asked, having heard the entire conversation.

“No. I’ve been in the Shire all my life. Farthest I’ve been is just before the row-post that will take you to Bree.”

“Can you not do that? You’ll blunt them!” we heard Bilbo call out. The dwarves in the new dining room were using the cutlery to create some type of music. Kili was the one who started a song.

“Blunt the knives, bend the forks!”

“Smash the bottles, and burn the corks!” Fili continued.

“Chip the glasses and crack the plates, that’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!” the party shouted in unison. “Cut the cloth and tread on the fat, leave the bones on the bedroom mat, pour the milk on the pantry floor, splash the wine on every door, dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole! When you’ve finished, if any are whole, send them down the hall to roll!” Much to my surprise, the party was in fact cleaning up while they were singing. All of the plates and mugs made their way in the sink and had been cleaned off. “That’s what Bilbo Baggins hates!” As the music and singing quickly died down, I took a seat in the closest chair, feeling exhausted. It had been a long evening, and it was far from over. The excitement in the room was quickly cut off by two loud poundings on our door. I was about to move to get the door, but Gandalf quickly stood up, cutting off my path.

“Prepare a meal, and some ale,” the wizard told me. I had to bite my tongue to keep quiet, but still did as I was told, working quickly. I peeked around the corner to see the newcomer.

“I thought you said this place would be easy to find,” the dwarf’s deep voice seemed to echo through the house. He looked stoic, hardened by war and internal battles. His hair was long and dark, but his beard was a bit short. He entered the new dining room without seeing me. Gandalf, however, motioned for me to quickly bring over the food I had quickly prepared. I balanced everything and had a mug of ale in my other hand. The dwarf had taken the seat at the head of the table. I placed the plate and mug in front of him. “Thank you, Miss Baggins,” he said, turning to face me. His expression changed when he saw my ears, and it wasn’t a positive change. I looked to Gandalf, and he motioned with his head for me to exit the room, which I did quickly. “You didn’t tell me there was an elf with the hobbit,” I heard him say to Gandalf.

“There are more relevant matters at hand. Bilbo Baggins, may I introduce to you the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Tell me, Mister Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Bilbo looked taken aback by the question. “Axe or sword, what’s your weapon of choice?”

“Well I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know,” the hobbit replied. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. I leaned against the archway entrance to the new dining room, putting most of my weight on my left hip.

“His size and stature would make a sword a better weapon for him,” I spoke up. All eyes went to me. “An axe would be heavy for a hobbit to carry around or use. A sword is lighter and could provide more defense points.”

“And what would you know of swords and axes? Have you ever had one in your hands?” Thorin questioned coldly.

“I learned what I know from reading books. And although you might dislike me because of my race, I am still, by technicality, the mistress of the house, not a servant that you can dismiss and ignore.” I made sure to keep my tone sounding confident, even though I wasn’t. I wasn’t about to let Thorin or Bilbo or  _ anyone  _ talk down to me in my house. Thorin didn’t answer and turned away from me. I knew he wanted to say something, but it was probably better that he didn’t.

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?” Balin asked, trying to break the tension.

“Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms.”

“And what did they say? Will Dain help us?”

“They say that this quest is ours, and ours alone.” The dwarves all looked visibly upset.

“Bilbo, my dear fellow, could you fetch us a little more light?” Gandalf asked. Bilbo moved to go get a candle or two, motioning that I could take his seat next to the wizard, which I did, crossing one leg over the other.

“Is this quest the adventure you offered us?” I asked Gandalf. He nodded in return, sending a signal that I needed to pay attention to what was going to be said. The wizard placed a map on the table, just as Bilbo brought in a candle. “The Lonely Mountain,” I read aloud, looking at a mountain peak drawn at the top of the map.

“Aye,” Gloin replied. “Oin has read the portents and the portents say it’s time. Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, just as foretold. When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast shall end.”

“What beast?” Bilbo asked.

“That would be in reference to Smaug the terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age,” Bofur answered. “Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals and gems.”

“Yes, I know what a dragon is.” The sound of a dragon both terrified me and peaked my interest.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number only thirteen, and not thirteen of the best or brightest,” Balin added.

“We may be few in number, but we’re fighters!” Fili counterclaimed. “All of us. Besides, we have a wizard in our presence. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!”

“Oh, well, I, uh, wouldn’t say….” Gandalf began to object.

“Well, how many then?” someone asked. I wasn’t sure whose voice it was. “Go on, give us a number!” The other dwarves joined in speaking all at once, demanding the amount of dragons that Gandalf had slayed.

“Enough!” Thorin yelled, making everyone instantly go silent. I shrunk a little in my chair, intimidated by the party’s leader. “If we have read these signs, do you not think others have, too? The vast wealth of our people may now lie unprotected. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Do we sit back and allow others to claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to reclaim Erebor?”

“You forget, the front gate is sealed,” Balin said. “There is no way into the mountain.”

“That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true,” Gandalf spoke up. He held up a key.

“How did you come by this?” Thorin questioned.

“Your father gave it to me for safekeeping. Now it is yours.” He gave him the key.

“If there is a key, there must be a door,” someone else stated.

“The runes speak of a door that leads to the lower halls. The answer is hidden somewhere in this map, but I don’t have the skills to find it. However, there are others in Middle Earth that do. The task I have in mind will require much stealth and even more courage. If we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done.”

“That’s why we need a burglar,” another person stated. I sat up a little bit straighter, knowing that I could do it. I was somewhat of a thief myself. I had never stolen anything major, just more to pull practical jokes. I had courage, though. I wanted to join them on this, even though it was going to be dangerous. With Gandalf and a small pack of experienced dwarves, though, how dangerous could it be? I could figure out how to handle myself. I could do this.

“A good one, too. An expert, I’d imagine,” Bilbo commented.

“And are you?” Gloin asked.

“Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert,” Oin stated, pointing at Gandalf.

“Me? Oh, no, no, no, I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

“I have,” I spoke up, but no one seemed to hear me.

“The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” 

“I can fend for myself,” I spoke up again. The dwarves started to speak over each other, all of them either ignoring me or not hearing what I said in the first place. Looking for a way to assert myself, my eyes landed on Thorin’s mug. Moving swiftly, I picked the mug up and slammed it on the table, standing up from my seat. A little bit of ale spilled from it, but not that much. Everyone went quiet and all eyes landed on me. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your burglar.”

“Absolutely not,” Bilbo started to argue. I held up my free hand to silence him, since I hadn’t taken my hand off the mug yet.

“You need a burglar, I can do it. I can take care of myself. Think about it, the dragon would be so accustomed to the smell of dwarf, imagine its confusion when it picks up the scent of an elf. And if you don’t want me as your sole burglar, I can be a….a distraction burglar. Further aid the sole burglar by providing a distraction that can draw any attention away from them. And if my race really comes into play with your acceptance of me, then all of you need to sort out your priorities.” I took my hand off the mug, leaning on the table instead. The dwarves were all exchanging looks.

“Show them the contract,” Thorin finally ordered. Balin passed a folded piece of parchment to Thorin, who shoved it into my hands. Bilbo and I both stepped back, opening the parchment, which rolled out onto the floor.

“It’s just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth,” Balin explained. I was speed reading through the contract, while Bilbo was taking his time. I knew what I was getting into already, I didn’t need to read it over.

“I cannot guarantee their safety,” I heard Thorin whisper to Gandalf.

“Understood.”

“Nor will I be responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

“Total’s cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding, one-fourteenth of the total profit, if any,” Bilbo read from the contract. “Seems fair. The present company  shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to…lacerations, evisceration…. _ incineration _ ?”

“Oh, aye, he’ll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur clarified. All of the color drained from Bilbo’s face. I quickly grabbed a quill from a shelf, dipping it in ink, and placed the contract on the table. At the very bottom of it, just below the word ‘Burglar’, I wrote  _ ‘Distraction _ ’, then signing my name.

“You alright, laddie?” Balin asked Bilbo.

“I feel faint,” the hobbit answered. “I-I need air.”

“Think furnace, with wings,” Bofur continued to clarify. “Flash of light, searing pain, and then poof! You’re nothing but a pile of ash.” Bilbo looked like he was thinking for a second, but then completely passed out onto the floor with a very loud thud. I put my hand up to my head, rubbing my temples.

“Thank you for that,” I said. “That was just such a great help.”

We eventually got Bilbo in a chair and he was conscious again soon.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to sit quietly for a moment,” he told Gandalf and me. I was standing by the lit fireplace, my arms folded across my chest. I knew I had to start packing my necessities, but I figured that it could wait just a little longer.

“You’ve been sitting quietly for far too long,” Gandalf answered, his tone filled with conviction. “When did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods.” I smiled a little bit at the comment, but it quickly faded. “He’d stay out late and come home trailing mud and twigs. The world is not in your books and maps, it’s out  _ there _ .”

“I can’t just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins of Bad End.”

“As am I,” I cut into the conversation. “By the laws of the Shire, I am as much of a Baggins of Bag End as you are.”

“And you are also a Took,” Gandalf added. “Did you know that your great, great, great, great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large that he could ride a real horse?” Bilbo nodded his head. “Well, he could! In the battle of Greenfields, he charged the goblin ranks he swung his club so hard, it knocked the goblin king’s head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time.”

“I believe that you made that up,” Bilbo replied.

“All good stories need some embellishment. You’ll have your own tales to tell, when you return.”

“Can you promise that I will come back?” I looked over at Gandalf, knowing that I was also facing the same question.

“No. And if you do, you will not be the same.”

“That’s what I thought.” Bilbo stood up from his chair. “I’m sorry, Gandalf, I can’t sign this. You have the wrong hobbit.” His gaze shifted over to me, and I could see the anger and disappointment in his eyes. I looked down towards the floor, hating that look. “As for you….I don’t even know what to do with you, Lucia. You finally got your wish of wanting to leave. Maybe you’ll see how lucky you’ve been.” Bilbo stormed off to his room, leaving Gandalf and I standing there.

“Lucia,” the wizard started to say.

“I have to pack,” I cut him off, walking towards my room quickly. I closed the door to my room gently, almost without any sound. I didn’t know what I was really supposed to bring. How long would I even be gone? I grabbed my packsack. It was a little raggedy, but it was the best I had. I grabbed four different outfits, not that I would be changing clothes a lot. I also packed a cloak, laying a second one out on my bed. I wasn’t sure what I’d be using a cloak for, but I just had a feeling to bring it. I didn’t have many things that could be considered a weapon, either. The only decent thing I had was an old dagger that I found by the river, right on the border of the Shire. I had sharpened and cleaned it over time. It would have to do. Someone would have to teach me how to actually use it. I packed away a few more things, then putting on my cloak that I had laid on my bed. I was as ready as I’d ever be, but I found that a part of me was nervous. It wasn’t a big part, but it was still there. No. I had to push it away. This was what I had wanted and needed for so long; to get away from the quiet life. I exited my room. Most of the candles had been blown out, keeping the house dim. I placed my packsack on the floor, next to the pile of weapons and other items. The dwarves were gathered around the fireplace, each one humming to some type of ballad. I didn’t recognize it. A deep voice slightly startled me, as I sat in the closest chair. Thorin had started singing.

“Far over, the Misty Mountains cold. To dungeons deep, and caverns old. We must away, ere break of day. To find our long forgotten gold.” The other dwarves joined him. I listened closely to their voices, staring into the fire. Fire was supposed to offer warmth and comfort, but I found none.

“The pines were roaring on the height, the winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red, its flaming spread. The trees like torches blazed with light.”


	2. So It Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read my work so far! I really appreciate all of you <3

I was abruptly awoken by a ray of sunshine beaming straight into my eyes. It was dawn. The sun had started to rise probably a very short time before I woke up. The other members of the Company all seemed to be asleep. I got up as quietly as I possibly could, making my way over to the kitchen, which was still in shambles. I picked out what I could, hoping that there was still enough food to make anything. Luckily, there was enough for me to work with. I pulled my hair up, starting to cook what I could. It took me a little while, but I managed to make fifteen plates of food. One for everyone except myself. I was washing the pan I had been using, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I whipped around, the pan in my hand. I was fully ready to defend myself and the pan could easily work as a weapon. I didn’t have much to worry about, though, since it was only Gandalf. I lowered the pan.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“Oh, no need. Thank you for your work.” I glanced over at the ‘new’ dining room, then back to the wizard standing in front of me.

“It’s nothing. I’m hoping I can be a bit more useful on the journey than just cooking food.”

“It is still a necessary and important skill. You don’t know how useful it may be.” I shrugged, putting the cooking tools away. It was quiet for a moment, but I ended it rather quickly.

“Is this adventure really worth it?” I asked.

“I can’t predict the future, but I believe it to be. The reclamation of one’s home can have meaning beyond meaning.”

“What about me? I don’t think I’ll exactly be accepted.”

“Thorin’s dislike of elves runs deep. Years ago, when Smaug destroyed Erebor, the Elven King Thranduil had been there with his army. The dwarves of Erebor begged for his help, but Thranduil turned away and refused to offer aid. The dwarves and the elves used to be allies. That’s where the dislike of elves originated for this company.”

“But not all of them act like that,” I started to protest, feeling a need to defend some of their polite actions towards me.

“Like what?” a familiar deep voice questioned from behind me. I turned around to see Thorin standing there.

“Nothing,” I answered, trying to keep my composure. Thorin did intimidate me, as much as I hate to admit it. I was worried that at any moment, he could snap at me. He didn’t say anything, but walked over to the table, taking a seat. I moved to walk away, hoping that I could find something to busy myself with.

“Not so fast, Miss Baggins. We have things to discuss.” I felt a small stab in my chest, knowing that this was the very moment I dreaded. He motioned to the seat next to him, which I sat down in, afraid to object. “I take it you’ve read the contract?”

“I have.”

“Then you understand that this is not an ordeal you take on lightly.”

“I do understand, and I am prepared to handle myself. No one is responsible for my actions or fate except for me.”

“Good,” he said. "I will not have anyone or anything slow us down. No liabilities.” There was a pause. I was about to speak my mind, and I didn’t know what it would result in.

“I’ve heard your guidelines, now I believe it’s time that you hear mine.” Thorin looked up with an expression filled with an emotion that wasn’t exactly anger, but it wasn’t positive either. “For starters, I am  _ not  _ a servant. I can and will help you in any way possible, but I am not a servant that you can simply order around. I understand your resentment towards my race, but nothing I do will ever be influenced by it. Is that understood?” Thorin didn’t respond, but I knew that he did understand my terms. I just didn’t know if he would actually follow them, though. All of the other dwarves were up and eating not long after. Bilbo was still in his room. I assumed he was still sleeping. Some of the dwarves started to gather their things from the pile on the floor. I started to help as much as I could.

“Have you ever used a sword before?” Bofur asked me.

“No. I’ve read how to use one, but I’ve never actually had one,” I replied.

“That won’t do,” Kili added to the conversation. “Reading something is one thing, but experience is another. We’ll have to get a sword in your hand as soon as possible.” I smiled, pulling my packsack onto my back. I was ready to go.

“Let’s move out,” Thorin announced, being the first to exit through the door. I fastened my cloak, making sure it couldn’t fall off.

“Welcome, Miss Adventurer Baggins, to the Company of Erebor,” Kili said to me, just loud enough for us, Bofur and Fili to hear.

“My pleasure to be a part of it,” I responded, practically skipping out the door.

Dawn time of the Shire was always the most peaceful. At most, one or two people were out in their gardens. This day, however, there was no one besides us. The only sounds were of running water and bird chirps. It was so peaceful and I absolutely adored it.

“The ponies are nearby,” someone spoke up. I wasn’t sure who it was. I did, at least, have experience with ponies. We strolled upon the ponies not too long after. They each had obviously soft and fuzzy coats. Each dwarf went to their pony, which left me walking over to the one that held some supply packs. I petted the pony, who was munching on the grass.

“Need help getting on?” Kili asked. The pony had a small saddle with semi-functional stirrups. I pulled myself up and swung my leg over, making sure to hold onto the reins.

“No,” I told Kili, adding an accomplished smile. He chuckled a little, then got on his own pony.

We started our path down a narrow road, hidden within the forests of the borders of the Shire. Some of the dwarves had placed bets on whether or not Bilbo would show up. I didn’t bother to take part, since I truly wasn’t sure what the answer would be.

“How far away is Erebor?” I asked.

“It’s a very long journey,” Bofur answered.

“I see.”

“Wait, wait!” an all too familiar voice called from behind the group. Everyone turned and I slightly shrunk down. Bilbo had caught up to us. He had the contract in his hand. “I signed it.” He handed it up to Balin, who read it over. Bilbo’s eyes and mine connected for a few moments. I had no idea what he thought of me or what he was going to say.

“Well, it appears that everything seems to be in order,” Balin concluded, folding the contract away. “Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Give him a pony,” Thorin ordered. His voice alone was enough to intimidate anyone. I knew exactly what was coming. I had taken the last pony. That meant I wouldn’t be riding alone.

“No, no, no, that won’t be necessary, I’m sure I could keep up on foot-” Bilbo was cut off by two of the dwarves lifting him up by his arms, and plopping him down right behind me. The hobbit looked extremely uncomfortable already.

“Say one word about our current transportation and I will  _ make  _ you walk,” I told him. I didn’t get a response, and I didn’t expect one either.

I hadn’t heard any complaints yet, as the dwarves were beginning to throw money bags at each other. I should’ve placed a bet.

“What’s that all about?” Bilbo asked.

“They took wagers on whether or not you would show,” Gandalf replied. “Most of them bet that you wouldn’t.”

“What did you think?” Gandalf caught a money bag a few seconds later.

“My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second.” I looked down towards the ground, wishing that I had gone with my instincts and placed a wager.

“And you, Lucia?” Bilbo asked.

“I didn’t take part,” I answered shortly. There was silence between us for a little bit, until Bilbo sneezed. He sneezed right behind me, which meant that it probably got on me. How joyful.

“Horse hair, having a reaction,” he said to himself. He started to look through his pockets for a handkerchief, but couldn’t find it. “Wait, wait!” he called out. I instantly felt a rush of blood go straight to my face. I leaned forward to the point where I couldn’t even be seen. “Stop! We have to turn around!”

“What in Middle Earth is the matter?” Gandalf questioned.

“I forgot my handkerchief.”

“Here, use this!” someone yelled, throwing an old and filthy rag, which Bilbo caught.

“Move on!” Thorin spoke loudly. We kept walking and I was still incredibly embarrassed by what Bilbo did.

“Lucia,” he started to say.

“No. Not another word. Or I will make you walk the rest of the journey and I mean that.” Bilbo didn’t answer, which was a smart decision on his part. Seeing that I wasn’t going to begin a lecture, Gandalf took over, starting his own lesson.

“You’ll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins. You were raised to the rolling hills and rivers of the Shire. Home is now behind you. The world is ahead.”

We walked through the rest of the day until we found a small cliff clearing, where we set up a fire. Night fell quickly. While many of the other dwarves slept, Kili and Fili were teaching me how to fight with a sword, while Balin pointed particular things out. I moved my sword to a defensive position, tightening my grip on it.

“Move your feet. Put your right foot behind your left to give yourself a better stance,” Balin told me. Kili and I repeated the defensive move, but this time I took Balin’s advice. He was right. The new stance allowed for more balance and an option where I could lean back, if needed. “Now, swing your sword forward and spin. It will lead to a disarmament.” I followed the instructions and had the result that was expected. I smiled, having fun with the practice.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” Kili asked, moving his sword again. “You’re a natural.”

“I supposed reading books does help. I’m a fast learner.” I was about to swing, but was cut off by a shrieking in the distance. I turned towards where the sound was coming from, down and away from our position on the cliff.

“What was that?” Bilbo asked, walking over to us.

“Orcs,” Fili answered.

“ _ Orcs _ ?” Bilbo and I questioned in unison.

“Throat cutters. There’d be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.”

“They strike when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams, but with lots of blood,” Kili added. The two of them chuckled quietly to each other, having been teasing us, but I still felt more insecure than ever before. I tightened my grip around the sword hilt.

“You think that’s funny?” a rough, scolding voice said from the side. Everyone around the fire turned to see Thorin, standing next to Balin. “You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?”

“We didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Of course you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.” Thorin walked away angrily. I gave the sword back to Fili, then taking a seat on the log that the brothers were sitting on.

“Don’t take it personal, laddie,” Balin reassured them. “Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.” I leaned in a little more, knowing that a story was about to be told. “After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race, Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king. Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief, he went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day, that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied, and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast, nor song that night for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow, there is one I could call king.” By now, all the dwarves had risen and were staring at Thorin with the utmost respect. He turned around to face them all. I let the moment continue for a little bit, until I turned back to Balin.

“What of the Pale Orc?” I asked.

“What happened to him?” Bilbo added, moving to sit next to me.

“That filth slunk back into the shadows from once he came and died of his wounds,” Thorin replied. I could hear the hate in his voice. Bilbo and I exchanged glances, but didn’t speak. There was nothing left to say. It had all already been spoken.

We continued on the next day and were greeted with a heavy early-morning rain. It was pouring and difficult to see through, but at least the rain was warm.

“Mister Gandalf, is there anything you can do about this deluge?” Dori asked.

“It is raining, my friend, and it will continue to rain until the rain decides that it is done!” Gandalf replied. I smiled at the response. “If you wish to change the weather, then you best find yourself a new wizard!”

“Are there other wizards?” I asked.

“Yes, there are five of us. The greatest of us is Saurman the White. There are two blue wizards, but I don’t remember their names. The fifth would be Radagast, the Brown.”

“Is he a great wizard or is he….more like you?” Bilbo questioned, which earned him a jab of my elbow in his ribs.

“I think he’s a very great wizard, in his own way. He’s a gentle soul who prefers much more the company of animals. He watches over the forestlands to the East, and a good thing, too. Evil will always look to find a foothold in this world.”

After the rain cleared, we found a clearing with the ruins of an old farmhouse. Thorin and Gandalf dismounted once we reached the building. I watched the wizard, as he examined the inside of the structure. He was looking at it as if something were wrong.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” Thorin told us. “Oin, Gloin, get a fire going. Kili, Fili, El-er, Miss Baggins, watch after the ponies. Stay with them.” He meant to say ‘Elf’. He was about to call me out by my race, but then changed his statement. I wasn’t entirely sure how to take that concept. I grabbed two of the other ponies’ reins, leading them without dismounting. Bilbo was already on the ground with everyone else.

“I think it would be best if we move on,” Gandalf spoke up, turning back towards the group. Everyone had stopped where they were, ready to listen to whatever was going to be said. “We could make for the hidden valley.”

“I already told you, I won’t go near that place,” Thorin objected.

“Why not? The Elves could help us, give us food, rest, advice.” I shrunk down a little in my saddle, hoping that it would make me a little less noticeable.

“I don’t need their advice.”

“We have a map with a transcription that we can’t read. Lord Elrond could help us.”

“Help? What help came from the Elves when Erebor was taken by the dragon, or when Moria was desecrated and left in ruin? You ask me to seek out the very people that betrayed my grandfather and my father.”

“And you are neither of them. I didn’t give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.”

“I didn’t know they were yours to keep.” Gandalf turned away from Thorin and started to walk off.

“Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo asked.

“To seek the company of the only one who has any sense around here.”

“Who’s that?”

“Myself, Mister Baggins! I’ve had enough of the stubbornness of dwarves for one day.” The wizard walked away in frustration, leaving the rest of us to exchange glances. Kili and Fili motioned for me to take the ponies to the somewhat ruined fenced area, just beyond the trees. I did as they instructed, even though I felt a particular pair of eyes burning straight through my soul.

It hadn’t taken us long to get the ponies into the fenced corral. The ponies were happily going through the grass and weeds.

“Are there really Elven kingdoms out there?” I asked the brothers. They both looked at me.

“Of course there are. Why do you ask?” Fili answered.

“I’ve never seen another elf. I’ve only read about them in books.”

“They do exist, and there are quite a few out there. Not as many as in olden days, but a few still flourish.”

“Hm.” I petted one of the ponies. All sixteen were there. “I’m going to go explore ahead a bit, is that fine?”

“Don’t worry, if anyone asks, we’ll cover for you,” Kili replied. I smiled.

“Thanks. If you need me, just yell.” 

“Be careful.” I kept my old dagger, which the brothers had shined and sharpened for me the previous night, in my hand, just in case. There wasn’t as much sunlight that broke through the trees, making it feel cooler than the corral area. I walked for a while, occasionally turning back so I could remember my path. I was about to turn around to head back, when my attention was caught by the soft rattling of a chain. I followed it, against my internal judgement. “Hello?” I called softly. There was another rattle of the chain. I picked up my pace and found a little lump of bushes rattling. I moved the bushes out of the way to see a small hunting dog trying to wrestle against the chain around its neck, which was tied to a tree. The dog was small enough for me to easily pick up and was white with brown and black patches. I moved quickly and removed the chain, checking to see if the dog had any injuries. It didn’t seem to, but did have a thinly knitted collar. The collar itself was a brownish color, but there was a single word that had been stitched into it with black thread.

“Prince,” I read aloud. That had to be the dog’s name. He must have belonged to the people that originally lived in the now ruined farmhouse. The dog was extremely well behaved, sitting quietly and patiently. “Hey,” I said softly, letting him sniff and lick my hand. I couldn’t leave him by himself. He’d get himself killed by other animals. Thinking for only a moment and knowing that Bilbo or someone was very much going to kill me for this, I picked up the little dog, holding him cautiously, and started making my way back to the corral.

“I don’t think he’s hurt anywhere,” I told the brothers, as I showed them my discovery. “He was just chained up out there. I couldn’t leave him.”

“We both understand,” Kili replied, petting the dog’s head. “Besides, if he really is a hunting dog, maybe we could teach him how to get things for us. I smiled, letting the dog lick my hand and neck.

“And I could carry him in my packsack so he wouldn’t have to try to keep up with us.” We were all smiling, when I happened to look at the ponies, just to check on them. Something didn’t feel right. “Have you counted the ponies recently?”

“We should probably double check again, but when we last checked, they were all there.” The three of us quickly counted how many ponies we had, and quickly encountered a massive problem.

“What’s the matter and  _ what  _ is  _ that _ ?” Bilbo’s voice questioned, as he approached us with three bowls of stew in his hands.

“This is a dog. He’s ours now,” I replied without any expression.

“We’ve come across a problem,” Fili added.

“What?”

“There were sixteen ponies,” Kili explained. “Now, there’s fourteen.”

“Daisy and Bungle are missing,” I explained, counting over the ponies again. How? How could we possibly lose two ponies? They weren’t that difficult to see, obviously, but somehow, two of ours had just completely vanished.

“Well, that is not good, not good at all. Shouldn’t we tell Thorin?” Bilbo suggested.

“No. Let’s not worry him,” Fili replied. “As our official burglar, we thought that maybe you and our official  _ distraction  _ would like to look into it.” I shot him a look, but knew I was going to get caught up in it anyway.

“Well, uh….” Bilbo started to look around. “Something big must’ve uprooted these trees here. Something very big and possibly quite dangerous.” I put Prince down, letting him sniff around to see what was going on.

“Look! There’s a light.” We all moved closer to the light, even though I was starting to get uncomfortable. We hid just behind a large tree that had been uprooted for some time. “Stay down.”

“What is it?”

“Trolls.” My eyes adjusted to see two trolls sitting around a roaring fire. We all ducked down when another one holding two more of our ponies walked past us towards the troll camp.

“It’s got Myrtle and Minty!” Bilbo whispered. “We have to do something.”

“Yes, you should. Mountain trolls are slow and stupid. The two of you are also small, so you won’t even be seen. It’ll be perfectly safe.”

“No, no, no,” Bilbo and I started to protest in unison.

“We’ll be right behind you. If anything goes wrong, hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl.” Bilbo started to repeat that, walking forward a bit. I followed him, leaving my dog with the brothers. I didn’t want to go towards the trolls. Bilbo turned around, probably to ask something, but we both saw that Kili and Fili were gone, with their bowls of stew. We had been left on our own.

“We can do this, right?” I whispered. Bilbo didn’t answer, but took my hand as we continued towards the trolls.

“Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, looks like nothing but mutton tomorrow,” one of the trolls complained.

“Quit your griping,” another one replied. The first one had a rag and a sword around its waist, the second had what I thought was a bowl in his hands, and the third one was stirring their mutton. Rag, Bowl and Cook. I needed something to keep my mind distracted from the anxiousness I felt, and giving them supposed names seemed to help with it. “These ain’t sheep. These be West nags!”

“I don’t like horse. I never have. Not enough fat on them,” Rag answered.

“Well, it’s better than leathery old farmer,” Bowl counterclaimed. “Still picking bits o’ him outta me teeth.” Rag sneezed, letting a huge string of snot fly about ten feet forward.

“Well, that’s lovely, that is. A floater,” Cook commented sarcastically. Bilbo and I were so close to the pen that the ponies were being held in. Rag tried to sneeze more into the mutton stew, only for Cook to hit him over the head. “Sit down!” Rag pulled the rag from his waist, blowing his face into it, then putting it back where it was. It was disgusting. Bilbo and I reached the pen, which was tied tightly with a rope. We started trying to untie it, but it wasn’t working.

“How come he’s the cook?” Bowl questioned. “Everything tastes like chicken.”

“Except the chicken!”

“Which tastes like fish!” I motioned towards the sword around Rag’s waist. It wouldn’t be that difficult to just lift it away and cut the ponies loose. Bilbo motioned for me to stay where I was. I shook my head a little bit, but it didn’t make any difference. Bilbo already had his hands on the sword, only for Rag to sneeze and reach behind him for the handkerchief. It wasn’t the handkerchief that Rag grabbed, it was the hobbit. I lowered myself further into the tall grass that surrounded the pen the ponies were being held in. I still had a chance to make a run for it and get the Company.

“Aah! Blimey, Bert, Bert! Look what’s come out of me hooter! It’s got arms and legs and everything!” Rag yelled to Cook, who now had a ‘proper’ name of Bert. Bilbo was completely covered in troll snot, which added to the disgustingness. The three trolls gathered around, staring at Bilbo. I looked towards the woods, planning to make a run for it.

“What is it?” one of the trolls asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like the way it wiggles.”

“What are you, then?” Bert questioned Bilbo, pulling out a knife.

“I’m a burgl-hobbit!” Bilbo almost let valuable information slip, but had quickly corrected himself.

“A burglar-hobbit?” Rag repeated.

“Can we cook him?” Bowl asked.

“We can try!” Bilbo wriggled free from their grasp, trying to make a run for it. The trolls moved slowly, but still fast enough that Bilbo couldn’t escape. I pulled out my little dagger, even though I doubted it would be much help. I swiped at one of the troll’s legs, causing him to cry out.

“A second one!” I continued to swipe at their hands and legs, hoping that I could give Bilbo just a little bit of a chance. The hobbit made for an opening, but moved to grab my hand to pull me with him. That was his downfall. One of the trolls grabbed him, holding him upside down. “Holds his toes over the fire! Make him squeal!”

“Drop him!” I shouted, holding my dagger in front of me.

“You what?” Bert troll said, turning towards me.

“She said, drop him,” a familiar voice replied, walking up next to me. Kili was there, and the Company joined behind us a few seconds later. A wave of relief swept over my entire body, but it was extremely short-lived. Bert threw Bilbo to the ground, as everyone started to charge. I immediately ran for the hobbit, pulling him up and trying my best to get him out of the way. He made a break for the ponies’ pen, while I turned back to everyone else, trying to help them fight. I got thrown back a bit, and as I moved to get back up, everything became much quieter than before. I looked up. The trolls had Bilbo by his arms and legs, holding him tightly.

“Lay down your arms,” Bowl warned. “Or we’ll rip his off.” Everyone was exchanging glances with each other. Hesitantly, Thorin threw down his sword, sending the unspoken signal for everyone else to do the same. I threw my dagger next to his sword. One by one, weapons went down, and so did our hope to survive the rest of the night.


	3. Orenmir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, but I've been a little busy with some things going on in my personal life. I am so grateful to anyone who left kudos or commented or even simply took a chance and started reading. Thank you so much and the next update will be coming soon! <3

The trolls tied us up in bags, up to our necks, and put some on a pole over the fire. I had been working slowly and subtly to untie the rope around the bag I was in. I was so close. If I could just get free, then I would be able to run ahead and possibly find Gandalf in time to save everyone.

“Don’t bother cooking them! Let’s just sit on them and squash ‘em into jelly!” Rag suggested.

“No, they need to be sautéed and seasoned,” Bert objected.

“Nevermind the seasoning, we ain’t got all night,” Bowl intervened. I looked over at Bilbo and saw an idea flash in his eyes. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I wanted to find out as quickly as possible.

“Wait, you’re making a terrible mistake!” Bilbo called out, managing to bring himself to a stand. I started to move more quickly to get myself out of the bag, knowing that the attention was all on Bilbo, for the moment.

“You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!” Bofur called out.

“Half-wits? Then what does that make us?” another dwarf asked, but I couldn’t tell who it was.

“I meant with the….uh….the….seasoning!” the hobbit spoke up.

“What about the seasoning?” Bert questioned, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, have you smelt them? You’re going to need a lot more than sage before you plate this lot up.” I knew instantly what Bilbo was doing and I was more than grateful for it. The dwarves started to grow angry, not seeing what I was.

“What would you know of cooking dwarf?” Bowl asked with a very sarcastic tone.

“Shut up, let the flurgerblurger-hobbit talk,” Bert quickly hushed, interested in what Bilbo was saying.

“The secret to cooking dwarf is….uh….”

“Go on, tell us.”

“Is to, uh….skin them first!” The dwarves’ shouts of protest grew louder, very much helping my cause.

“Tom, get me filleting knife,” Bert ordered Rag, who now had the name of Tom. Bert, Tom and Bowl. The rope I had been working with finally loosened, and I immediately crawled out of the bag, taking off towards the forest. “Hey, there’s one getting away!”

“Don’t worry about that one. We don’t have much time, so it’s not worth it,” one of the trolls answered. I ran as fast as I could, still hearing the protests of the dwarves.

“Find Gandalf, find Gandalf,” I repeated to myself. That was all I had to do. I had to find Gandalf. I almost tripped to a stop when I saw something rustling in the bushes ahead of me. Fearing the worst, I braced myself for whatever creature was about to kill me next. The bushes parted and my dog ran over to me. I sighed a very long sigh of relief, bending down and picking Prince up off the ground. I started jogging again, keeping my mission as my top priority. I passed by a tree and was sent into a complete panic mode, when someone grabbed me from behind, cupping their hand over my mouth. I wanted to scream, but no sound was coming out.

“Don’t make a sound,” Gandalf’s voice whispered. I nodded and he let me go, which prompted me to immediately step back.

“Gandalf, the trolls and-and the Company-” I started to stutter out.

“I know. We have very little time. Come.” Gandalf started moving quickly back towards the troll camp, which was still in our sight. I followed him, almost having to run to keep up. I could hear the trolls talking and the dwarves yelling.

“Not that one, he’s infected!” Bilbo yelled out.

“What?”

“He’s got…. _ worms _ in his…. _ tubes _ . In fact, they’re all riddled with parasites. I wouldn’t risk it.”

“We don’t have parasites,  _ you  _ have parasites!” There was some more yelling, but it ceased suddenly.

“I have parasites.”

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

“Mine are the biggest parasites! We’re riddled!”

“Yes, riddled!” The dwarves were all yelling similar things in agreement. Bilbo happened to glance over his shoulder. I knew he had to have seen us. He had to buy us just a little longer. I let my dog down on the ground. Prince stayed right by my side.

“What would you have us do, then?” Bowl questioned. “Let ‘em all go?”

“Well….”

“You don’t think I know what you’re up to. This little ferret is taking us for fools!”

“The dawn will take you all!” Gandalf shouted, stepping up on a large boulder that was blocking the rising sun.

“Who’s that?”

“Can we eat him too?” Gandalf raised his staff and slammed it down. It broke the boulder in half, letting sunlight fill the clearing. The three trolls cried out, as they were each turned to stone. I leapt over the bushes that were in front of me, as the dwarves cheered. I reached Bilbo within maybe three strides. I quickly started trying to untie the rope that held him in the bag.

“Pull it up through the knot—yes, like that—you’ve got it,” he said. The bag fell to the ground and the two of us hugged, relieved that we were both alive. “It’s alright now.”

“That was scary,” I replied, slightly laughing, as I broke the embrace. “Let’s not do that again.”

“Agreed.”

“There must be a cave nearby,” Thorin spoke up, catching everyone’s attention. He started to walk off, leading the rest of the Company to follow him. Bilbo did the same, hand-in-hand.

We found the cave not too far from where the troll camp had been. A dirt smell greeted us at the entrance. It was unpleasant, but not unbearable.

“Be careful what you touch,” Gandalf warned. Torches were lit and pitched, as the Company rummaged through the gold and treasure dispersed in the cave. Bilbo and I stayed close to each other. I had no desire for any of the gold and jewels that were scattered everywhere. I didn’t always see the worth in exchanging pressed and engraved coins. I was hoping to find an actual sturdy weapon; something that would do much more than my little dagger. I knelt down, seeing the outline of a sword hilt.

“Bilbo, look at this,” I said, picking up the entire weapon from the gold. Bilbo walked over, as I pulled the sword from its case.

“What’s the engraving in the blade, here?” the hobbit asked, pointing to the markings. I squinted, trying to make out the message.

“It’s Elvish, for sure. I think it says ‘Condemn thy evil’. A bit ominous, don’t you think?”

“A bit, yes. I think it might be best to put it back in its case.”

“I’m taking it with me. After the trolls, I need a sword to practice with. A real one.” I slid the sword back in its case, but happened to feel an engraving etched into it. It was followed by several markings. I ran my finger over each one, trying to determine what Elvish letter each engraving was. It spelled out  _ Orenmir _ . That had to be the name of the sword. I fastened it around my waist tightly, but not unbearably tight. I saw some of the other dwarves burying a bit of the gold, for safekeeping, if they ever were to return here. I doubted any of us would. We started exiting the cave.

“Bilbo,” Gandalf called over. I watched Bilbo walk over. “This should be about your size.” He handed Bilbo a little dagger, which might as well have been a full sized sword, for the hobbit. “The blade is of Elvish make, meaning it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.

“I have….never used a sword in my life,” Bilbo replied, hesitating greatly to take it.

“And I hope you never have to. If you do, however, remember this: true courage is knowing when to spare a life, instead of taking one.” I smiled a little, making sure to remember that.

“Something’s coming!” one of the dwarves yelled out.

“Stay together! Arm yourselves!” I pulled Orenmir out of its case. I happened to remember a random fact that swords were mainly considered to be masculine. I tightened my grip on the hilt, pushing away unnecessary thoughts. We were all waiting for a moment, but a brown sleigh being pulled by rabbits burst through the vegetation around us.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” the sleighman was shouting.

“Radagast!” Gandalf spoke up. “Radagast the Brown!” The wizard put his sword away, prompting everyone else to do the same. “What in Middle Earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s terribly wrong.”

“Yes?” Radagast was about to speak, but stopped himself, an expression of deep thought spreading over his face. I felt myself cock an eyebrow, internally questioning what exactly we were working with.

“Just give me a minute. I had a thought, but now I’ve lost it. It was right there, at the very tip of my tongue! Oh, it’s not a thought at all!” Radagast opened his mouth to reveal a stick bug at the end of his tongue. “It’s a silly old stick insect.” He removed the insect and allowed it to crawl into his hat. “The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf. A darkness has fallen over it, allowing nothing to grow. Nothing good, at least. The air is filled with decay, but the worst is the webs.”

“Webs? What do you mean?”

“Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur.”

“The old fortress is abandoned, is it not?”

“No, Gandalf. It’s not. A dark power dwells there, the shadow of a very ancient horror. A horror that can summon the spirits of the dead. I saw him, Gandalf. The Necromancer has come from the darkness!” Radagast pulled out a tied up bundle, unwrapping it just slightly. It held a sword with, what I could tell to be, a black hilt. Something about the sword didn’t feel right. It didn’t seem to belong here. Gandalf took it. “That is not from the world of the living.” Radagast was cut off a bit by a long howl. Prince immediately started growling. Everyone was on high alert.

“Is that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?” Bilbo questioned.

“No, that is not a wolf,” Bofur answered. I pulled out my sword again, unsure as to where the howls were coming from. I heard a low growl from behind me, which made everyone turn that way. Two warg scouts were facing us. The scouts charged at us. Kili, Thorin and I swung our weapons, since we were the closest. We killed both of them, which blood from one of the beasts splattered across my entire face. The blood was black, and I was lucky that it hadn’t gotten in my eyes or mouth. I didn’t have enough time to wipe the rest of it off my face.

“An orc pack is not far behind,” Thorin stated.

“Who did you tell about your quest besides your kin?” Gandalf asked urgently.

“No one.”

“Who did you tell?!”

“No one, I swear. What in Durin’s name does this mean?”

“You are being hunted.”

“We have to get out of here,” Dwalin added.

“We can’t, the ponies bolted,” someone else objected.

“I’ll draw them off,” Radagast spoke up.

“These are Gundabad wargs, they’ll outrun you,” Gandalf argued.

“ _ These  _ are Rhosgobel rabbits. I’d like to see them try.”

“Come and get me!” Radagast shouted across the plains, leading the orc pack away. He looked as if he was having the time of his life. The Company, on the other hand, was in immediate danger and its members were each running for their life.

“Stay together,” Gandalf warned. I kept making sure that Bilbo was right behind me. This entire situation was no joke. This was life or death and I wasn’t about to allow Bilbo to get left behind or lost. All of us huddled under a small ledge of a rock. We had to be quiet, since one of the scouts was just above us. I hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t pick up our scents. Prince was standing with Gandalf, up in the front of the line, so I wasn’t too concerned about him. I saw Thorin nodded at Kili, who started loading his bow. I put a hand on the hilt of my sword, but I still wasn’t sure what I was to do at that moment. I barely knew how to even use the weapon. I couldn’t offer to volunteer myself first every single time the opportunity appeared. Kili moved away from the ledge and shot at the scout above us. It wasn’t a kill shot, which everyone was obviously hoping for. The arrow did hit the orc, at least. It leapt down from its perch, which caused the majority of the party to draw weapons and kill it. The kill wasn’t worth anything. The orc and its mount made too much noise. Everyone knew that we had been heard and noticed. It was a terrifying sight to see the orcs beginning to charge at us.

“Move! Run!” someone yelled. I didn’t need to be told twice. I saw a rock that I could easily climb up on. If I had a bow, I could start shooting. I had never actually shot an arrow before, only read how to do it in a book. No one else in the Company, besides Gandalf, would be able to easily climb up on that rock and get down. I moved faster than the dwarves in front of me, making myself catch up to Kili.

“Give me your bow, I’ll buy you time,” I told him. He threw his bow and arrow case into my hands without hesitation. Running towards the rock, I pulled the arrow case over my shoulder. I leapt up, loading the bow quickly. I could do this. Experience wasn’t entirely everything. I aimed the first arrow, standing as straight as I could. The feeling I encountered within the following few seconds is still almost indescribable. It was as if something else took over my entire body and was controlling my every sense and movement. I shot two orcs dead with one arrow. It had gone straight through the first one’s head. I spun, reloading and shooting a third. I ducked, as a black arrow flew past me. Within the blink of any eye, I was back into an aiming stance, letting my arrow soar and reach its destination. This type of defense wasn’t one that could come from a book. This was something that had to be  _ learned _ . How did I already know it? It felt like this was the weapon I was  _ meant  _ to fight with. I could feel it in my blood. Four, five, six of the orcs had been shot dead.

“Lucia!” Gandalf’s voice shouted. I turned to where it had come from. He was standing by a large rock. That had to be where everyone else was, since I didn’t see anyone. I leapt down from the rock I was standing on. When my shoes hit the ground, there was a fast whirring sound that flew past my pointed ear, and I was knocked to the ground. A sharp pain started under my right eye and spread through the rest of the right half of my face, burning as it began. Brown and white arrows were gliding through the air. There was blood beginning to run down my face, but I sprinted as fast as I could over to the rock. Gandalf offered a hand, which I took, and slowed my slide into the cave that had been previously hidden. The Company was there, even including my dog, and everyone seemed to be safe. Bilbo quickly approached me, immediately starting to examine the bleeding cut on my face. I took the arrow case off of my shoulder, handing it and its counterpart back to Kili.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I told Bilbo, breathing a little heavily. Maybe it was just a fluke rush that I had felt with the bow, but it still left me almost breathless.

“Stop talking,” Bilbo replied, trying to wipe away the blood that had already started to stain its way to my neck. The sound of a horn blared through the air.

“Elves,” I heard someone say.

“I think they hit me by mistake,” I whispered to the hobbit, loud enough for only him to hear me.

“I think so, too. That was a very brave thing you did, but please don’t do that again. Not without warning me,” he answered at the same volume. I nodded, making a silent promise.

“I can’t see where the path leads,” Dwalin announced, having moved deeper into the cave. “Do we follow it or not?”

“Follow it, of course!” one of the Company members replied. We started walking down the narrow tunnel, which had a bright light at the end of it. Sunlight in a situation where we weren’t about to die felt more welcoming than nearly anything else. I held a piece of cloth from my packsack to the cut, which luckily stopped bleeding quickly. I wanted a little bit of rainwater so badly, just enough that I could clean the blood off of myself. The tunnel path came to an open cliff overlooking a sunlit city. It had multiple curved bridges leading into it, with waterfalls and forests surrounding it. Everything about it seemed to be welcoming, especially the sun. I wanted to run down the rest of the path, just to possibly get there a little faster.

“The Valley of Imladris,” Gandalf stated. “In the common tongue, it’s known by another name.”

“Rivendell,” Bilbo and I said at the same time. I had once read about Rivendell in a book. I didn’t think that it was actually a real place.

“The last homely house, east of the sea,” Gandalf added.

“This was your plan all along,” Thorin cut into the wizard’s explanation of our location. “To seek refuge with our enemy.” I wanted to shrink down when I heard that. I knew that the dwarvish hatred of Elves would come back more than most of the time.

“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will is that of what you bring yourself.”

“You think the Elves will give their blessing? They will try to stop us in our quest.”

“Of course they will. But we have urgent questions that need to be answered.” Gandalf walked ahead, but most of the Company hesitated for a few moments. I didn’t. I walked ahead as well, not caring what any of them were going to think of me.

We walked for a while longer, crossing over a curved bridge, which led on to a flat one, leading to the front steps of what I believed to be the first hall of the city. Everything felt warm and hospitable. The sheer architecture was beautiful. I was drawn to it all. I kept feeling myself smile. This place was special, in its own fantastical way. It felt as if a little part of me belonged here. As we approached the steps, Gandalf moved forward to greet an elf that was standing there, waiting for us.

“Lindir,” the wizard greeted.

“Mithrandir,” Lindir replied. The two of them shook hands. I know now how rude it must have been, but I couldn’t help but just stare. I had never met another of my race before. I had never even seen another one in person. My heart felt like it was fluttering. Fluttering far far away to a place filled with phenomena that couldn’t be explained. “We heard you crossed into the Valley,” Lindir said, speaking in our native tongue. I had taught myself to read and speak Elvish from books and had only practiced a little. I suddenly wanted to speak it and never stop.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf answered, in the common tongue.

“My Lord Elrond is not here.”

“Not here? Where then?” A horn blared, causing everyone to turn around. The hunting party from earlier were moving quickly towards us. The sun shined against their armor. They looked magnificent.

“Close ranks!” Thorin ordered. Everyone huddled together in a circle, but I hadn’t moved at all. The hunting party surrounded us, leaving the only exit by Gandalf and Lindir. The Company was on an extreme and tense edge, but I wasn’t. I felt more calm right here than anywhere else. One of the riders dismounted, approaching Gandalf. He had to be Lord Elrond. His hair was long, much like Lindir’s, but it was much darker. In fact, I noticed that the Elves standing away from us, closer to the first hall, had either extremely light, blonde hair or brown and darker shades.

“Gandalf!” Elrond greeted joyfully.

“Lord Elrond.” The language quickly switched from the common tongue into our native language. The dwarves couldn’t understand them, but I could. “My friend! Where have you been?”

“We’ve been hunting a pack of orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number by the Hidden Pass.” I whispered all of this information into Bilbo’s ear, making sure no one could hear us. The language switched back again. “Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or  _ someone, _ has drawn them here.”

“Ah, that would probably be us.” Elrond seemed to analyze each one of us. His eyes landed on me for a little bit longer, but then shifted to Thorin.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Thorin replied, stepping forward.

“You have your grandfather’s bearing. I knew him when he ruled under the mountain.”

“Indeed? He never mentioned you.” Elrond stepped forward, speaking a phrase in Elvish. It was an offer for food and rest, from what I could pick up of it.

“What is he saying?” Gloin spoke up. “Does he offer us insult?”

“No, he’s offered us food,” I replied, having to raise my own voice to be heard. All eyes landed on me for a few seconds. There was a pause.

“In that case, uh, we accept.” Lindir motioned for the Company to follow him, which they all started to do. I was included in this, but stopped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Lord Elrond staring back at me.

“Not you. I would like to speak with you, if that is possible.” I glanced over at the Company for a second, but no one else was concerned that I wasn’t with them. I looked back to Lord Elrond.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Come with me."


	4. Destined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, this isn't my best chapter, but the next chapter that I already have been working on is one that I'm going to be proud to post. From the bottom of my heart, I truly appreciate the people leaving comments. The comments really help me and make me feel better about my work :) Thank you all so so so much <3

I would discover later that the dwarves had been led to a dining hall. It still didn’t sit right with me that they didn’t even bother to notice that I wasn’t with them. I hadn’t even seen Bilbo look back. I didn’t blame him, though. I was amazed at everything as well, and if I hadn’t been mentally translating the conversation between Gandalf and Elrond, I probably would’ve forgotten everything around me, as well. I followed Elrond silently, almost afraid to speak up. I mapped our path in my mind, just so that I would know how to return to where we began. We approached a small room that I couldn’t entirely see inside of.

“Erist,” Elrond called. A male elf stepped into my line of view. Elrond ordered, in Elvish, for him to treat the cut on my face. Erist motioned for me to take a seat in the closest chair, which I did without saying a word. Elrond pulled a chair from the side and placed it in front of me, taking a seat. “My dear, can you tell me your name?”

“Lucia Baggins, my Lord,” I answered.

“My title isn’t necessary, as of now. I find it peculiar, Lucia, that a lone elf is amongst a Company of dwarves, don’t you?” I hesitated to answer. Erist placed a small, warm compress over the cut on my face. “How did you first come upon them?”

“Gandalf led them to our house, in the Shire, so that they could eat and rest.”

“The Shire? The Shire of hobbits?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You live there? On your own? What is your age?”

“I lived there with Bilbo Baggins of Bag End,” I answered quickly, unsure of how much information to give out. “We think that I’m around fourteen years of age.” The cut stung, as Erist placed some mix of herbs over it.

“It will help you to heal.”

“I know,” I replied. “I’ve read about Elven healing.” I felt uncomfortable, uncertain of what Elrond wanted me to say. He probably wanted me to let slip what the dwarves’ true intentions were. I wouldn’t give up anything about our adventure. That much I owed them. “My Lord Elrond, I don’t know what you want from me. I was offered a journey outside of the Shire, and I took the opportunity. Nothing else.”

“No one is accusing you of anything.”

“I don’t believe I trust statements with the potential to be twisted.”

“That is simply another way of saying that you trust no one.”

“I trust who I find to be trustworthy.”

“My dear, Lucia, I believe that you have had an impression placed on you by your Company. Tell me, do some of your Company members hold resentment towards our race?”

“That doesn’t mean I do.”

“Yet your tone and demeanor prove otherwise.” I closed my mouth, not sure how to respond. Had I been influenced by the Company? Was I truly showing that much resentment? I wasn’t meaning to. I truly wasn’t. I just felt so uncomfortable. Elrond stood from his chair. “You have a very eventful future laid out before you, Lucia. One that will change both your life and that of Middle Earth. Things are already set in motion that cannot be undone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell you, exactly. It is my duty, however, to warn you that each path you take, each decision you make changes something in either the present or future. Your decisions can no longer be based upon intuition alone. A single mistake could mean the deaths of thousands.” No. No, that couldn’t be. I couldn’t have  _ that  _ much of a responsibility on my shoulders. I was barely able to keep myself and Bilbo alive, how could I possibly decide the fate of  _ thousands _ ? “A prophecy has been told that an elf of outside origins will become the one to determine the fates of so many, whether they live or die.” I stood up from my chair, stepping away from it.

“I’m sorry, my Lord Elrond, but you have the wrong being. I am no one but a misplaced elf among hobbits and dwarves. I’m not the person you’re talking about. I can’t be.”

“Child, do you hear yourself?” Elrond also stood up, placing his hands on my shoulders so that I had to face him. He traced his hand against my long red hair. “You are destined for  _ greatness _ . You cannot deny the fate that has been placed upon you.”

“I don’t believe in fate or coincidence. Things happen for a reason, but the person deciding my future is me. I’m sorry, but I’m not the person you believe I am.” Elrond slowly let his hands slide away from my shoulders. They dropped to his sides.

“I do hope that you are wrong, my dear, but if that is what you currently believe, I cannot stray your path of thinking. I will return you to your Company.” Lord Elrond was the first to walk out of the room. I followed, feeling as though I had truly done something wrong. I regretted every word of that conversation almost immediately. I hung my head down a bit in shame.

I rejoined my Company quickly, glad to be with them again. The bit of resentment I held was no longer there, as it had been replaced with internal confliction instead. The evening was falling upon us quickly. Prince was having the time of his life, as the dwarves threw sticks and such for him to run after. My dog was practically the only one of us that could completely look after himself.

“He told you that you were meant for ‘greatness’?” Bilbo asked me. We sat on a bench away from the others. I didn’t want them to hear what I was saying. The information I knew now was personal, and there was no telling how the dwarves would react to it. It could’ve placed a greater target on my head, in Thorin’s eyes. He disliked me enough, I didn’t need anymore hate directed towards me. I nodded in response to Bilbo.

“He told me that I couldn’t deny the fate placed upon me,” I said. “I’m not sure entirely what that means, though.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I don’t believe in fate. Things happen for a reason, but the only person controlling my future is me.”

“That could be true.”

“Bilbo, do you believe in fate?”

“I’m not entirely sure. You’re still young, Lucia. This is a question that people much older than the two of us haven’t been able to figure out the answer to. Most people don’t know what to think of it.”

“Do you think that it could be true? That there’s some prophecy describing my future and determining how I end up?” There was a pause, letting me know that Bilbo was really thinking about his response. Maybe the supposed ‘prophecy’ would be about the two of us growing closer. We rarely discussed things like this, and Bilbo also was growing more lenient with my actions. Some things I would’ve expected him to chastise me for, but he hadn’t.

“I think that you will do great things, whether they be massive actions, or small deeds. Either way, I will be there to help you through it. I don’t know what we are to face and experience, but I promise that you won’t have to go through anything alone.” I nodded, taking that promise in. In the Shire, Bilbo wouldn’t have ever dared to say anything like that. He would’ve told me that I had to learn on my own how to be responsible and mature. Yet now, he made a promise that would never leave either of us for a very long time.

“Thank you.”

After getting a little to eat, night fell upon Rivendell, revealing a starry and clear sky. The Company members were still eating and would be that way for a while. I, on the other hand, was looking up at the sky, lying on the ground, searching for constellations. Prince had curled up next to me, providing a source of warmth, which was pleasant.

“Bombur!” Bofur called out, getting the attention of the dwarf sitting on the table, surrounded by piles of food. The table was creaking as it was. I turned my head, curious to see what Bofur was going to do. He threw a piece of sausage, which Bombur caught. The table creaked again and broke, causing the dwarf to land on the ground, with his piles of food. Everyone else laughed. I smiled and snickered, then looked back up to the night sky. I had stargazed almost every night in the Shire. Nothing had exactly changed, but it felt different. There were no words that could describe this ‘different’ feeling.

“Lucia,” Bilbo’s soft voice called. I sat up, turning towards where his voice was coming from. I saw Gandalf, Balin and Thorin walking ahead. Bilbo motioned for me to follow. I quickly stood up, brushing myself off, and hurried to catch up. Prince seemed like he was about to follow, but I motioned with my hand for him to stay.

“Where are we going?” I whispered.

“I’m not sure yet.” Gandalf led us down a few halls, then entered through a door. The four of us followed. The door led to a large rock balcony. A small waterfall flows across its open entrance. The moon was shining directly upon us. Lord Elrond was waiting for us.

“Our business is no concern of Elves,” Thorin growled, after a few moments of silence.

“For Middle Earth’s sake, Thorin, show him the map!” Gandalf snapped back. Bilbo and I exchanged glances. I understood now. The map had writing on it that none of us could read, except for Elrond. I wanted to shrink down to a smaller size, just to feel less self-conscious.

“It is the legacy of my people, mine to protect!”

“Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here before one of the few people in Middle Earth that can read that map! Show it to Lord Elrond!” There was a long and tense silence. I felt Bilbo’s hand move subtly to my back, up by my shoulder, slightly pushing me forward. I looked over at him, knowing what he wanted me to do. I slightly shook my head, afraid to do what he was asking for. He nodded slightly, giving me another gentle signal. I pulled my shoulders back a bit, standing a little taller, and walked over with the appearance of confidence to Thorin. I took the map out of his hand before he could snatch it away. Internally, I was terrified, but I couldn’t allow anyone else to know that. I walked over the Elrond, holding the map up.

“Please, my Lord, if you could,” I said. He took the map from my hands, turning to the stand that faced the moon. I started walking back to Bilbo, but Thorin grabbed my sleeve tightly, bringing me to a forceful stop.

“Know your place,” he whispered in my ear. I pulled my sleeve away, walking directly back to where I had originally been standing. That single sentence bothered me more than anything, and would continue to bother me for a while.

“Erebor,” Elrond spoke up. “What is your interest in this map?”

“Mainly academic,” Gandalf replied. “As you know, these sort of artifacts sometimes contain hidden messages.”

“Cirth ithil,” the elf read.

“Ah, moon runes. An easy thing to miss.”

“In this case, that is true. Moon runes can only be read by the light of the moon of the same shape and season as the day they were written. These runes were written on a mid-summer’s eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight.” I looked down towards the ground, knowing that the comment about fate was directed towards me. “Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole.”

“Durin’s Day?” Bilbo asked.

“It is the start of the dwarves new year, when the last moon of Autumn and the first sun of Winter appear in the sky together,” Gandalf explained.

“Durin’s Day will soon be upon us,” Thorin cut in. “Time is passing.”

“We still have time,” Balin objected. “We have to be standing in exactly the right spot, at exactly the right time.”

“This is your purpose?” Elrond questioned. “To enter the mountain?”

“What of it?” Thorin said.

“Some would not deem it wise.”

“Who do you mean?” Gandalf asked, sounding slightly defensive.

“You are not the only guardian over Middle Earth.” Elrond motioned towards the door. One by one, everyone exited the balcony, except for me. I stayed behind, walking to the edge of the rock. I sat down, letting my legs slightly dangle over the edge. It was a bit scary being so close to falling off, but I was in a position where I knew I’d be able to catch myself. I looked up to the lonely moon. It’s bright light casted a long shadow behind me. Was anyone else feeling the internal pain that I was? I was so unsure of everything. Unsure of myself, my future, the trust I had placed in the Company, almost every aspect of my current being had come into question.

“If anyone can hear me,” I spoke, “then please, tell me what I am to do. I need help. I need guidance. Someone please give it to me.” I would never receive a response, which I wholeheartedly expected. No one would be coming to explain anything. I had to figure it out myself. I did know one thing. If I was destined for whatever type of greatness, even if it was a downward spiral, I needed to know how to use a sword.

I traveled back to where the Company was, looking for someone to possibly practice with. Everyone seemed to be busy or preoccupied with something. The cold feeling of loneliness was starting to set back in, my downward spiral beginning. I was losing the grip I had on myself. It was Rivendell. It had to be. It was messing with my mind, trying to make me lose sight of who I was. The place was trying to convince me that I was only an elf, and that this was where I had been all my life, but I hadn’t. This was not the place where I had grown up. It was intoxicating, poisoning me enough to question everything I knew. I wanted to leave. Maybe if I had come without the Company, I would give in to its intoxication, but I couldn’t. Not now. I knelt by a very small, contained water pond. The moon’s reflection provided enough light that I could see my own reflection. The brown eyes that stared back at me didn’t look like my own, but there was so denying that they did, in fact, belong to me.

“Destined for greatness,” I muttered sarcastically, turning away from my reflection. I had accepted that I was no one long ago. I didn’t want to change that. I didn’t want to have to face a challenge I wasn’t prepared for. I happened to hear items and packsacks rustling around, causing me to look over. The dwarves were starting to collect their belongings. I stood up, unsure as to what was going on. Thorin moved about twenty feet away from me, shoving some provisions into a small sack. I walked over to him, hoping that I could gain enough confidence to speak. “What’s everyone doing?” I asked.

“We’re leaving,” Thorin replied, not looking at me.

“Without Gandalf?”

“It is not your concern.”

“This  _ Company  _ became my concern when I signed your contract.”

“Last time I checked, you signed on as our  _ distraction _ , not our leader.”

“I am a member of the Company, nonetheless. If you have a problem with that, then you can discuss it with whoever came up with the contract. Oh, wait, that happens to be you, doesn’t it?” Before Thorin could respond, I walked away, pulling on my packsack and going to help out. Truthfully, I was too scared to stay and see what his response to my statement would be.

We were about to leave, when I ran through a checklist in my head, making sure I had everything. I did, except for my dog.

“Prince!” I called, looking for him. I wasn’t sure where he went, which was growing my concern. Bilbo approached me, knowing that I was searching for my dog.

“Lucia, we’re about to leave,” he told me.

“I know, but I can’t find Prince.” The hobbit’s expression on his face sent a straight message, although he obviously didn’t want to say it. “You want me to….leave him here?”

“It might be for the best. Think about it, there’s people here who will take care of him, give him a stable and happy environment.”

“Couldn’t I do that, too?”

“You could try, but I’m not entirely sure you’d succeed. We’re constantly moving, our lives have been in danger numerous times, have you fully thought about how you’re going to care for him?”

“I just thought….” I let my voice trail off, knowing that Bilbo was right. I hadn’t thought anything out.

“I know you don’t want to leave him, but it might be for his own safety. Think of it this way, we can come back for him once this is all over. Then we could take him back to the Shire with us.” I nodded a little bit, not wanting to physically speak. I lowered my head and started to follow the rest of the group, feeling as if I had committed an unforgivable deed.


	5. Into The Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Redemption chapter!! <3

The fifteen of us left Rivendell and were back on the mountain path within the hour. I didn’t look back at the Elven city, even though Bilbo did. I knew that a large part of him wanted to turn around, stay in the city for a while, then return to the Shire. I felt it, too, but I forced myself to look forward. The world was ahead, not behind, wasn’t it?

The mountain path was narrow and not exactly what one would call stable. One wrong step would pitch us over the cliff. It was a long way down. The rain picked up quickly, making things more difficult for us. Evening turned into a deep and dark night, a most unnatural sky hovering over the land. Thunder and lightning argued bitterly, adding to our dismay. Bilbo’s hand gripped the fabric of my clothes on my right shoulder, not letting go for even a second. I kept my hands against the rock of the mountain, searching for any little crack or crevice that would be strong enough to hold onto, in case something were to happen.

“We must find shelter!” someone called out. Their voice was overpowered by a crack of thunder. The rain was cold, making me shiver. I could have pulled my hood up, but it wouldn’t have helped much. The rain was too thick.

“Look out!” someone else shouted. A massive boulder was flying towards us, as if it had been thrown. It crashed into the side of the mountain, shattering into pieces that ricocheted everywhere. I covered the back of my head, ducking down, along with everyone else.

“This is no thunderstorm!” Balin yelled. “It’s a thunder battle!” The lightning revealed the biggest creature I ever saw in my entire life. It was taller than the mountains, as it was one itself.

“The legends are true! Giants! Stone giants!” The giant was in the figure of a human, striding towards us. I felt sick, mostly from the fear that was building up inside me. The giant threw another rock, smashing above us again. The mountain that we were standing on suddenly shook, breaking apart. It was the only time Bilbo let go of me, because he had to. The path split apart, as the mountain became a second stone giant. Either Kili or Fili had pulled me onto their section of the pathway, with Balin, Thorin, Dwalin and whoever else. Bilbo was on the other half, with Bofur and the rest. I felt myself shaking. Another stone was thrown, but from which giant, I am still unsure. I was pulled to the ground with everyone else, but my first concern was to cover the back of my head. If I was hit there, I knew it would be all over. No more adventure, no more living, no more anything. I looked over. The other half of the pathway was nearing us, swaying with the giant’s movements. The dwarves were all shouting, hoping that the pathways would connect long enough for all of us to be reunited. We were so close, but the paths moved apart again.

“No!” everyone was shouting over each other. Another boulder was thrown.

“Middle Earth, please,” I begged quietly to myself, so that no one could hear me. “Please. Let us survive this and I’ll follow whatever path I’m supposed to take. I’ll become the person in the prophecy Elrond told me. Please, just make it all stop.” A final stone was thrown, which slammed into the stone giant opposite to us. It was knocked down and didn’t get back up. I stood up slowly and shakily, as the path slowly came back together again. I was more than relieved, until I heard someone shout out the one statement that perhaps terrified me the most.

“Where’s Bilbo? Where’s the hobbit?” I felt a stab of panic in my chest, as I started to look around, as did everyone else. I looked over my shoulder and happened to catch a quick glimpse of the side of the mountain, below us. I instantly dropped to the ground, reaching my hand out to Bilbo, who was hanging onto a small branch. If his grip slipped or the branch broke, he would fall down the trench of the cliff.

“Grab my hand!” I ordered him. “Grab my hand!” He managed to grab my hand, but it wasn’t enough for him to pull himself up. “Don’t let go, just don’t let go,” I repeated multiple times. Before I fully realized what Thorin was doing, he was by my side, moving down to where Bilbo was stuck. Thorin helped me pull the hobbit back up onto the pathway, then pulling himself up. I immediately hugged Bilbo, scared to let go of him again. He hugged me back tightly. The hug broke, and some of the dwarves started giving him pats on the back, also relieved that he was alive.

“I thought we’d lost our burglar,” Dwalin commented.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home,” Thorin stated. “He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” I could see the expression of hurt spread across Bilbo’s face. Even though we disagreed on almost everything, I couldn’t stand to see him like that. I wasn’t going to let anyone get away with putting him down. I gathered my courage and chose to speak up.

“Apologize to him,” I demanded. Thorin turned back towards me.

“I will do no such thing. I don’t take orders from you.”

“It’s not his fault that he almost fell off the mountain! It could have been any of us. Would you have blamed Kili if he had almost fallen? Or Balin or Nori? You target him and me because we don’t fit your mold. You attempt to isolate us from this Company!”

“His kind and your kind don’t belong on a quest such as this!”

“Oh, so because he’s a little shorter than you, he doesn’t belong here? Because I have pointed ears and a paler complexion, I’m not worthy either? Get over yourself, not everyone is how you perceive them to be!” I was ready to be yelled at. I was ready for any insult. I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for what actually happened. Thorin turned slightly and within the blink of an eye, I was on my hands and knees, facing the open space that one would’ve fallen into off the cliff. My left cheek was starting to bleed and burn. Thorin’s ring had cut me. I stood back up, unsure of how I could actually respond, but Thorin had already turned away and started walking ahead. Almost everyone’s eyes were on me. I pulled my hood up and started walking, keeping my head low so that no one could see that I was crying.

We found a cave a short amount of time later. Night had already fallen and everyone had chosen spots to sleep. I sat by the entrance, staring out into the rainy mountain valley abyss. I had my knees pulled up to my chest with my hood up, as well. I was lonely again and it was the first time I had cried from emotion, instead of pain. I was so alone. Bilbo was being isolated from everyone, Thorin had officially excluded me, and I had to leave my dog in Rivendell. It was so cruel. What was the point of still going forward? It wasn’t too late to turn around. I inhaled a bit, but it had the sound of the beginning of a cry. It was quiet, but anyone who was awake would’ve heard it. I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn around in panic. I relaxed a little, seeing that it was only Bilbo.

“I’m alright,” I told him, not wanting to talk at that moment. I made sure to keep my voice at a whisper.

“Let me see it,” he replied, pulling my hood down. He ran his thumb over the cut on my face, which stung, but had at least stopped bleeding.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassured him, knowing that I was probably going to end up with a scar. I noticed that Bilbo had his packsack on. “Where are you going?”

“Back to Rivendell. You can come with me.”

“No, you can’t leave,” I protested. “I can’t do this without you here with me.”

“Lucia, after what happened, I don’t think we should stay.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

“I have to prove that I’m worth more than he thinks. I think by now that I’ve proven myself to you, but now it’s his turn. This one quest could change Middle Earth forever, If it could reunite two sworn enemies, isn’t it worth it?”

“You’re a part of this company,” a familiar voice added into our conversation. Bofur had been awake, set as the first night watch. “Both of you. You’re each one of us. But that decision of yours.” There was a pause.

“I wish you all the luck in the world,” Bilbo replied, stepping forward. He and Bofur leaned in and shook hands. “Please take care of her,” I heard him whisper. Bofur nodded his head a bit, as a silent promise.

“What’s that?” the dwarf questioned, his gaze drifting to the pale blue glow coming from Bilbo’s sword. The hobbit pulled the glowing sword out of its case. I stood up, knowing that the sword glowed when orcs were near. I happened to look to the side and saw that the ground was beginning to crack.

“Wake up,” Thorin called, quickly standing up. Everyone was immediately awake. “Wake up!” No one moved fast enough. The ground quickly gave way, tipping over and causing us to begin our plummet into darkness.

I didn’t even fully realize that we had fallen until we had landed on a wooden deck. I couldn’t breathe for a few seconds from the impact. When I did come to my senses, I heard shrieks from all around us. An army of goblins were charging towards us. I moved to reach for Orenmir, but one of the dwarves shoved me to the ground. It was an accident, but that didn’t matter. The goblins were upon us within seconds. I had to find Bilbo. I had to make sure he was safe. The goblins pushed and pulled us, hauling us across bridges and landings. I couldn’t find Bilbo anywhere. He had to have slipped away, somehow. It took only a few minutes for the goblins to take us to what could only be described as a more than massive throne room. A giant goblin, presumably their king, sat upon a structure that was directly in the middle of the enormous room. His appearance was disgusting, nothing more than inflated and moldy living flesh.

“Who would be so bold as to enter into my kingdom armed?” his voice boomed, despite its squeakiness. “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?”

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” a servant answered. “Dwarves and an elf. We found them on the front porch.”

“Don’t just stand there, search them!” I had Orenmir hidden well enough that they probably wouldn’t find it. The goblins moved to grab me, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.

“Get off of me!” I yelled out, but it was no use. I was powerless, at that moment.

“What are you doing in these parts? Speak!” the Goblin King questioned. The Company exchanged glances, but stayed silent. “Very well. If they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring the bone breaker, and the mangler! Start with the elf.” My entire body tightened, feeling more threatened than ever before.

“Wait!” Thorin called out, stepping forward.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain.” The Goblin King mockingly bowed. “Oh, but I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain, and you are not a king, which makes you really no one.”

“He’s more of a king than you!” I heard myself cry out. A not entirely silent silence filled the air. I wasn’t sure why I was defending Thorin, especially after what he had done and said to me. The Goblin King’s eyes were directly on me. Even though I had the look of a confident person, I was putting all my strength into keeping my body from shaking. The Goblin King motioned towards me, and I was suddenly shoved to the wooden floor, being overtaken by a horde of goblins. I tried to fight them off, but I couldn’t do much. They had me pinned down, which scared me so much. The waves of fear sweeping over me were causing me to drown, dragging my down into an inescapable whirlpool.

“I happen to know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head,” the colossal lump of flesh said to Thorin, turning his attention away from me. “Just a head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A pale orc astride a white warg.”

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed, slain in battle long ago,” Thorin replied.

“You think his defiling days are over?” The question was followed with a horrid laugh. “Start with them,” he ordered. I shut my eyes tight, knowing that that order would be the beginning of a long round of pain.

“No!” I heard someone shout out. I couldn’t tell whose voice it was. I was thrown backwards, landing on my side. I felt myself continuously getting hit with either fists or objects, I wasn’t sure which. My body went numb. I felt myself moving, but I wasn’t sure if I was the one truly controlling my limbs. I heard shouts of my name, but couldn’t tell where they were coming from. I felt a pressure on the back of my head. I opened my eyes and was met with complete panic and terror. I wasn’t with the Company anymore. I was in some type of cave. It was freezing. I saw the reflection of a small body of water in front of me. I started to back up, nearly slipping on the loose rocks and stones. I heard a voice coming from the body of water, followed by two shadows on a rock in the middle of it.

“The cold hard lands, they bites our hands, they gnaws our feet, for rocks and stones are like old bones all bare of meat, cold as death, without no breath it’s good to eat,” the voice sang. I started backing up quickly and was about to turn around, but nearly ran into Bilbo.

“Bilbo!” I said, beyond relieved. I moved to throw my arms around him, but felt a cold spark run through my body, as did he. He walked straight through me. My breathing started to pick up, as did my heart rate. I wasn’t in my body. I shivered, both from cold and fear. What was happening? What was going on? How? How was this even possible? “Bilbo,” I repeated, trying to grab onto his sleeves. My hands went straight through him. I had to be dead. That was the only logical explanation. I was dead and my spirit was attached to Bilbo. That had to be it. That had to be what was happening. I saw Bilbo pick up a small gold ring from the ground. He examined it for a moment, but then slipped it into his pocket. The atmosphere around me changed, just for those few seconds that the ring was in his hand. Something was off about it. I turned and saw a wrinkled and bent creature approaching Bilbo. It had to be the thing that was singing. “Bilbo!” I yelled, even though it didn’t do anything. The hobbit still turned around swiftly, holding his little sword to the creature’s throat.

“Stay back,” Bilbo warned.

“Gollum, Gollum!” the creature coughed out, sounding as if it were hacking up its internal organs. That sound had to be either its cough, or its name. Either way, I mentally decided that I would refer to it as Gollum. “It has an Elfish blade, but it is not an Elfes. Not an Elfes, no. What is it, precious? What is it?”

“My name is Bilbo Baggins,” the hobbit answered. His voice was shaky, and I didn’t blame him for his feeling of panic.

“Bagginses? What is a Bagginses, precious?”

“I’m a hobbit of the Shire.”

“Oh! We like goblinses, batses and fishes, but we hasn’t tried hobbitses before! Is it soft? Is it juicy?”

“Keep your distance!” Bilbo spoke loudly, waving his sword aimlessly. He wasn’t even holding it correctly. Gollum hissed at him, showing the few teeth he had. “I don’t want any trouble, do you understand? Just show me the way out, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Why? Is it lost?”

“Yes and I want to get unlost as soon as possible.”

“Oh, we knows! We knows safe path for hobbitses! Safe path in the dark. Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything….?” Bilbo said, unsure of what exactly had happened. I didn’t fully understand either.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Gollum seemed to have two active sides to him, an angel and a devil. I wasn’t sure if that made him more or less trustworthy. He was muttering to himself, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying.

“Look, I don’t know what your game is, but-” Bilbo started to say.

“Games?! Ooh, we love games, don't we, precious? Does it like games? Does it, does it, does it?! Does it like to play?”

“Maybe.”

“What has roots that nobody sees, is taller than the trees, up, up, up it goes, and yet it never grows?”

“The mountain,” Bilbo and I answered in unison. It was a simple riddle, in reality. Easy to solve. Maybe that would be our ticket to getting out.

“Yes, yes, ooh!” Gollum laughed, finding joy in the riddle like a child. “Let’s have another one. Yes, do it again, ask us! No! No more riddles! Finish him off, finish him!” Gollum turned to lunge in attack, but Bilbo stepped back a bit.

“Wait, wait, I want to play,” he said. “I do. I want to play. I see that you are very good at riddles. Maybe we could have a game of riddles? Just you and me.”

“Just us?”

“Yes, just us. And if I win, you will show me the way out.”

“Yes, yes! And if it loses, what then? Oh, we knows, if it loses, precious, we eats it whole.” I looked at Bilbo, internally questioning if he was really going to accept the offer. I wasn’t sure if I, myself, would have. The hobbit thought for a moment, but then nodded.

“Fair enough.” He was betting his life on a game. A simple game of riddles in the dark. The fear of my current state started to sink in more. If something bad happened to Bilbo, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I wasn’t even sure if any of this was real. Maybe it was just a dream, making me nothing but a figment of air in the wind.


	6. Figment of the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter of a chapter, but I didn't want to put the entire ending in one chapter. Final chapter of Part 1 will be up soon, and I'm hoping that Part 2 will be posted very soon afterwards! <333

Gollum convinced Bilbo to begin with the first riddle, making the hobbit think for a few moments.

“Thirty white horses on a red hill,” he spoke. “First they champ, then they stamp, and then they stand still.” That was too easy. The answer was obviously teeth. It only took a few moments for Gollum to think of an answer.

“Teeth!” he cried out. Bilbo sighed, but Gollum started to laugh. “But we only have nine! Our turn. Voiceless it cries, wingless it flutters, toothless it bites, mouthless it mutters.” Another easy one. I had read it in a book. The answer was wind. Bilbo stared out into the water before us, going over the riddle in his mind.

“Wind,” I said, even though it was pointless. He couldn’t hear me. He continued to think, and I knew that his pace would be his downfall. I moved down to the ground and started to blow on the water, hoping that Bilbo would see it ripple. Luckily, he did.

“It’s wind, of course it is,” he told Gollum. I sat on the rocky ground, tired of standing. It was Bilbo’s turn. “A box without hinges, key or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.” Another far too easy one. The answer was an egg. Gollum mumbled to himself, but he was incomprehensible. “Give up?”

“Give us a chance, precious, give us a chance!” Gollum continued to think. His expression showed his struggles, until it suddenly changed. “Eggses! Eggses!” Gollum started to laugh, causing a group of bats to screech and fly across the cavern. The sounds echoed. I stood up from my sitting position, moving closer towards Bilbo. Gollum wasn’t in my sights anymore and I no longer felt safe. “We have one for you. All things it devours, birds, beasts, trees and flowers, gnaws iron, bites steel, grinds hard stones to meal. Answer us.” I knew the answer immediately. Time. It was time. All things were devoured and worn down by time. I could tell that Bilbo had no idea of how to respond.

“Give me a moment, please, I gave you a good long while,” the hobbit spoke up, going through his mind. “I don’t know this one.” I had to give him some hint or idea.

“It’s time,” I said. “The answer is time.”

“Is it tasty?” Gollum taunted. “Is it scrumptious? Is it  _ crunchable _ ?” He moved to wrap his hands around Bilbo’s neck, but the hobbit, luckily, moved before anything bad could happen.

“Let me think, let me think.”

“It’s stuck. Bagginses is stuck.” I had to figure out a way to give Bilbo the answer. What could possibly represent time? I doubted highly that he happened to have a pocket watch with him. I didn’t have anything with me. Out of desperation, I started to speak.

“The answer is time! You have to hear me. It’s time!” I moved closer to Bilbo, knowing that I still couldn’t touch him. “Bilbo, you have to hear me, it’s time. The answer is  _ time _ .” When I finished my sentence, Bilbo looked directly at me. I wasn’t sure if he could actually see me, but I still didn’t think he could. He turned around towards Gollum.

“The answer is time,” he said. He heard me. Bilbo had actually heard me, he had to have. Gollum hissed in frustration, signaling that my answer was correct. “It actually wasn’t that hard.”

“Arrogant much?” I said sarcastically.

“Last question,” Gollum told him. “Last chance.” Bilbo thought for a few moments, trying to come up with a riddle. “Ask us. Ask us!”

“What have I got in my pocket?” the hobbit muttered. There was, indeed, something in his pocket, but I couldn’t see what it was.

“Well, that’s no fair! No fair! It’s against the rules!”

“No, no, no, you said to ask you a question and  _ that  _ is my question. What have I got in my pocket?”

“Three guesses, precious, he must give us three!” Gollum held up two fingers, which didn’t necessarily surprise me.

“Three guesses, very well. Guess away.”

“Handses!” Bilbo held his hands up, showing that Gollum’s answer was incorrect.

“Wrong, guess again.”

“Oh, fish bones, goblin teeth, wet shells, bat wings, ah, knife! No, shut up!”

“Wrong again, last guess.”

“String! Or nothing!”

“Two guesses at once. Both wrong.” Gollum started to cry out in frustration. Even though Bilbo had won the game, I had a feeling that things weren’t going to play out as he hoped. Something was starting to feel off. “Come on now, I won the game. You promised to show me the way out.”

“Did we say so, precious? Did we say so?” Gollum’s tone was changing. It was becoming more malevolent. The other side of him was starting to take over. “What has it got in its pocketses?”

“That’s no concern of yours. You lost.”

“Lost. Lost? Lost?” Gollum’s hand reached to the side of his loincloth, searching to grab something. Whatever he was looking for wasn’t there. His facial expression quickly turned to pure horror. “Where is it? Where is it? No! Ahh! Where is it? No! Lost! Curse us, splash us, my precious is lost?” Bilbo’s hand moved away from his pocket, obviously taking something out, but I still couldn’t see what it was. The situation was quickly slipping out of his control.

“What is it? What have you lost?” he asked.

“Mustn’t ask us! Not its business! No! Gollum, Gollum!” Gollum cried for a moment, but then everything about him started to change. “What has it got in its nasty little pocketses? He  _ stole  _ it. He stole it!” I was about to speak or do something to contribute to the situation, but I heard a voice from somewhere in the cavern. Someone was calling my name. I knew that it was real. The voice wasn’t just a figment of my imagination in my head. A bright light started to shine in front of me. I turned back towards Bilbo to see what was going on, but he had already started running, with Gollum chasing after him.

“Bilbo!” I called out, starting to run after him. The light grew brighter and I had to close my eyes to keep from going blind. I felt myself trip, but landed on a hard wooden surface. The silence of the cavern had become the loud shouts and cries of goblins, as well as the members of the Company. A searing pain shot through my entire body, burning my lungs to a crisp. I felt like I was choking. I started to cough, propping myself up on my hands. Blood spewed from my mouth. I knew right then that I was still alive. I was fully conscious and aware. I tried to cough more, but all that came out of my mouth was a shrill cry of pain.

“Lucia!” I heard Kili and Bofur’s voices shout. I looked up to see the members of the Company. They were all being ruffled around roughly, but not necessarily tortured. Not yet, at least. I crawled quickly, trying to reach Kili’s outstretched hand. Our fingers touched, but were pulled apart by goblins.

“No!” I shouted. I started to struggle, trying to get the goblins off of me. The Goblin King was singing some sort of shanty. Everything was so deafening that I could just barely hear it.

“Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung! And you’ll be beaten and battered, from racks you’ll be hung! You will die down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin town!” I could barely breathe. Between the pain and the struggling, I was getting more than overwhelmed. I was panicked. Kili, Fili, Bofur and some of the others had their hands outstretched towards me. I reached for them desperately, but our fingertips would touch and then I would be pulled away again. I didn’t want to die here. Not in this dirty and evil place. I kept getting hit with things. I wasn’t sure if it was random objects or clubs, it all felt the same. My blood was splattering everywhere, either from my mouth, my head, or wherever else I was bleeding. We needed help. We needed someone to intervene and give us a chance to fight back.

“Take our hands!” Bofur shouted to me. My body was strained and growing tired, as I was running out of the strength and energy to keep struggling. I couldn’t handle it anymore. My hand dropped, landing on the wood below me.

“Don’t give up! Don’t give up!” Kili yelled out. I wanted to. I wanted to give up and let the misery end. My wary thoughts were broken by the sound of a dog barking. I had to be hallucinating. I shut my eyes tightly, as a sudden burst of light and energy, much like an explosion, shot through the entire room. It blew the goblins off of me and everyone else. It was paralyzing. The light dimmed completely a few seconds later. Everyone looked up to see a wizard’s silhouette. The figure of a dog started running towards me. I felt a smile start to spread across my face. Prince pulled on the fabric of my clothes near my shoulder, pulling me up as much as he could. I propped myself up, just as everyone else was doing.

“Take up arms,” Gandalf ordered. “Fight. Fight!” I immediately pulled Orenmir from where I had the sword hidden. It felt much lighter than before, which I didn’t think too deeply into. I managed to keep the goblins off and away from me. There was a sharp pain in my lower chest that stabbed me every time I moved. I coughed, resulting in another spew of blood splattering everywhere. I was starting to feel disoriented, but I couldn’t let that interfere. One wrong move and I really would end up dead. “Quick! Run!” Gandalf grabbed my arm as he passed me, dragging me along with him, which was the push I needed to keep going. I could feel Prince at my heels. The goblins were  _ swarming  _ around us. Gandalf shoved me forward, merging me further into the Company. There was a line of goblins charging us. I wasn’t sure if it was some sort of freak energy rush or something, but I swung over to the rope railing on the bridge we were running across and propelled myself to the front of the group, beginning to clear the path of goblins. Thorin and Dwalin were right next to me, one on each side. I happened to see the colors that now shined on my sword. The goblin blood was a blackish green and had been blended with the dark red of my own blood. Dwalin grabbed a large pole and started pushing the oncoming goblins off the bridge. Our path was becoming clearer, which was increasing our chances of survival.

“Onto the bridge!” someone yelled out. The path cut off. Some of the bridge had been severed. I looked around quickly for anything that could help us.

“Cut the ropes!” I screamed out. “Cut the ropes!” Someone heard my order and cut the ropes of the bridge, causing us to start to swing to the other side. Some of the dwarves managed to jump off and reach the other side, but the rest of us had to wait for the swing to come around again. We gained a few goblins in the process, but disposed of them within seconds. The rest of us made the jump and started running again. Something didn’t feel right. Where had the Goblin King gone? He couldn’t possibly have still been in the throne room; we would’ve seen him. I kept the thought in the back of my mind, as I continued to follow the Company. Gandalf made his way to the front of the group, leading us to, hopefully, freedom. I turned around for only a second, just to see if everyone was alright. When I turned back to the front, the Goblin King suddenly burst through the bridge, causing us all to skid to a complete stop. I heard Prince let out a low growl and I didn’t blame him. If I had been a dog, I would’ve done the same.

“You thought you could escape me?!” the Goblin King bellowed. I tightened my grip on the hilt of Orenmir, prepared to make a drastic move. “What are you going to do now, wizard?” Gandalf used his staff to stab the living flesh in the eye, then slicing his sword across the goblin’s middle. The Goblin King fell to his knees, shaking the bridge. “That’ll do it.” Before Gandalf could move, I took a swift step forward and swung my sword with as much force as I could muster, cutting the Goblin King’s throat. I immediately felt Gandalf’s hand on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure if it was to pull me back from the goblin’s giant body that had now fallen, or if it was to hold me back from facing the other goblins. The giant’s body fell onto the bridge, breaking it clear off of its ropes. The structure started to fall, with luckily no goblins joining us on our descent into darkness. I held onto a somewhat sturdy beam, not daring to loosen my grip in the slightest. Everyone was screaming, as the structure continued to fall, slamming against rock and stone. We met the ground with a painful thud. Dust swirled around us, causing me to cough, which resulted in blood splatter. I let go of the beam, dropping to the ground. My dog was at my side within seconds and I was more than grateful that he was still there.

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” Bofur said. I looked up, but then turned away, as the body of the Goblin King landed on everyone. The dwarves all groaned, almost in unison. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” Dwalin responded.

“Gandalf!” Kili suddenly yelled out. The swarm of goblins was beginning to climb down to where we were.

“The only thing that can save us is daylight! Run!” I forced myself to a stand, starting to help everyone get up and start moving. Our path became a very narrow tunnel, carved between monuments of stone. I sheathed Orenmir, not feeling a need to have my sword in my hand anymore. The end of the tunnel had a halo of sunlight, which I was grateful for. Other little tunneled paths branched off from the one we were on. I kept looking down each one as I passed it. It felt like someone was there, watching us from the shadows. I forced myself to shove away the thought, continuing to follow the Company.


End file.
